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I’m an idiot.

No, correction.

I’m a dead idiot.

My breath comes in short pants as I bolt through the forest. I’ve learned some of Ze’ev’s strategies by now. He prefers to track me by my scent, which means I can buy myself a few extra seconds by crossing the creek.

I do so a couple of times, but the downside is he can also track the sounds of the splashing, as well as the moisture I leave behind.

So I try a new tactic and double back and hold my breath, taking note that the wind is carrying my scent away from the last place I saw the hunter.

Ze’ev travels fast, which leaves me a few seconds to deprive my screaming lungs of oxygen as he rushes past me.

He’s too crazed to listen for my heartbeat. I’ve learned that he listens to my very loud breaths to narrow down my immediate location.

After a few quiet moments, I know he’s still tracking my old path, but he’ll find me again soon enough, especially if the wind shifts.

Topping off with another swig from both the strength potion and the Rinhold tonic, I shove them back into my pocket.

“Darkness,” I order the sky. The Rinhold tonic boasts a weather-altering ability, and it doesn’t disappoint as everything dims under freshly rolling clouds. I send the wind stronger in the other direction for good measure.

A faint mist kisses my cheeks. The rain will disguise my scent even further, and I slowly make my way through the forest.

I’m turned around and not sure which way I’m going, but I need for whatever effects my blood has on Ze’ev to wear off before he finds me again.

Except for the slight problem of my heat ramping up, I might just survive this.

Sorry. I don’t know why I did that, I think at Ze’ev.

Which isn’t true. I do know why I did what I did.

I can’t take much more of this. It’s not that I have a death wish, but I’m tired of being told what I can and can’t do.

Now, I regret my outburst. Ze’ev could very well kill me.

Maybe if I talk him down, he’ll snap out of it.

There’s no response, so I keep talking as I walk toward where I think the Blood Moon encampment wall might be. Godric might have approved this little “training,” but he probably didn’t expect me to spit my own blood into the vampire’s mouth.

Oopsie.

I can apologize for that when I find him and get him to protect me.

Except, I don’t want protection.

I want Ze’ev.

I’m just tired of everyone telling me what to do, I tell the hunter. What’s good for me. What I am and am not capable of, I drone on. I’m tired of everyone leaving me. I’m tired of being alone.

I’m still talking to him when I break into a clearing, then I go still.

Ze’ev is there.

And his fangs are enormous.

The wind has shifted and catches my hair, tumbling it over my shoulder. I’d accidentally sent the wind in the wrong direction while I’d been whining.

Shit.